


Fight the Flu- Not Me

by OverMyFreckledBody



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fluff, Hook ups via coffee cups, Hospitals, I suck okay, Jean's a lameo and sick, Kind of a drabble, M/M, Nurses, Prompt Fill, Really Damn Short, Short One Shot, Sick Character, Tumblr Prompt, all it is is fluff, that should be a tag for real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 03:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4812641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverMyFreckledBody/pseuds/OverMyFreckledBody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean's sick with a bad case of the flu and his nurse helps him feel better with smiles and really cute scrubs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight the Flu- Not Me

**Author's Note:**

> I APOLOGIZE FOR ALL THE DUMB HYPHENS EVERYWHERE I HAVEN'T TOUCHED ANY WRITING IN LIKE 2 WEEKS IT SUCKS I HATE THIS
> 
> I am also taking prompt ideas on my tumblr, which is the same as my username on here.
> 
> Bonus fun: if you want names for the time breaks, the first one is "I'm glad I've never had the flu" and the second one is, "what a fucking nerd lmao".

Two days into being hospitalized- Jean knew it was just an irregular case of the flu, but apparently nobody was liking the way his body was reacting to one of the treatments, so he had to stay in longer- he got a different nurse. Of course, he didn’t _know_ this other nurse, or even what he _looked_ like, as at the time he met him, Jean was bundled up under the extra pillows that the nurse from before had gotten him per request.

 

Huddled under the cushions, Jean muttered a weak _fight me_ when he heard the door opening and footsteps walking around- likely checking to make sure his patient was still alive and to look at the big beeping machines around him. However, instead of the sharp, high, almost nervous laughter he was expecting, he got a breathy chuckle of, “Maybe some other time.”

 

Confused at the change of voice, Jean shuffled a little under his fortress, but was too tired to actually move anything off of him. Still, he forced out his thoughts, “You’re not my nurse.”

 

“I am now,” the voice explained and a light weight was added right beside his head- his new nurse had probably dropped a pillow that had fallen onto the floor. “Christa’s got a lot of patients with what’s been going around and what you have, so I said I’d cover a couple of her people.”

 

“Don’t you have your own patients, too?” Asked Jean as he wiped his nose on the pillow that was resting on his face and curled a little more in on himself under the covers. _Why was it so fucking freezing in here?_

 

The nurse hummed, “Mm, yes, technically.” He walked around some more, but Jean still didn’t really know what he was doing, “But Christa’s been real busy lately, so I wanted to help.”

 

“Both of my nurses are fucking angels,” Jean whispered, claiming the titter he got for it as a suitable reward, “First pillows, now shift covering.”

 

Blowing air out of his nose- _lucky, he fucking has a clean nose. If I did that snot would be in my eyes_ \- the other man in the room made to correct him, “I don’t actually cover her shif-”

 

“Okay, people covering.” Jean interrupted. Close enough.

 

“I suppose,” came the voice again, still shuffling about. Neither of them said anything else until the stranger left ( _“Get better soon, Jean.”_ ), but Jean was too wiped to really say anything in response.

 

* * *

 

 

The first time Jean saw his new nurse, he didn’t know if it was the same guy before until he spoke. However, he knew that whoever had just walked in was _hot_.

 

The perfectly combed, split down the middle undercut and freckles really should have been cute, or _dorky_ if anything. It really should have- and it would have been, had it been on a different person. Had it not been on a man with broad shoulders, thick arms- who the fuck worked out, or even found time to, as a _goddamn nurse_?- and a confident stride. Except, that of course, that was who had the haircut and the damned freckles.

 

“Heya, Jean,” voice from before, owned by the _supermodel_ of a nurse Jean had, seriously said _Heya_. “How’re you feelin’?”

 

Shit. He needed a name. He glanced at the name tag on the- wow- kitten scrubs he was wearing. The letters swam in his gaze for a second, but he was soon able to make them out. _Marco._ It suited his hair and freckles. And _sweet_ , _syrupy_ voice.

 

Scowling- at who? Marco’s smooth voice and dumb hair? at himself for being into said haircut? at his stupid fucking face for burning up because of multiple reasons?- Jean huffed, crossing his arms and opening his mouth to say, “ _Fight me_ ,” only to get out something that sounded a lot more like _fajita_ than _fight_ before he started sneezing.

 

Smiling gently, Marco walked over and handed him a tissue box. He waited patiently, fond smile ever present, for Jean to be able to breathe again before speaking softly, “I’m afraid I’ll have to pass. You might beat me.”

 

Throat still a little clogged, Jean raised his eyebrows, “Uh-huh?”

 

“Wouldn’t be good for my track record, either,” his smile turned more into a smirk, and Jean flushed, looking away, attempting to bury himself in the pillows again. “Hey, now, don’t run off. I gotta check your lymph nodes and-”

 

“Other funky doctor shit,” coughed Jean as he slowly turned back, face redder than when Marco had come in.

 

Nodding, Marco reached forward to hesitantly- for Jean’s comfort, he assumed- place two fingers from each hand at the top of his neck, sliding under his jaw and feeling around for something. “Other funky doctor… stuff.”

 

Jean snorted, covering Marco’s arms in snot.

 

* * *

 

“Today’s my last day.” Marco told him as he strolled in, a steaming cup of coffee- man, did Jean ache for one of those- between his palms. “At least, with you.”

 

“Oh.” Jean was a little- actually, a lot, very- disappointed to hear that. Over the few days he had gotten to spend in the hospital with Marco as his nurse, he had enjoyed the company. He had enjoyed Marco’s voice and his serious, but still amused and teasing responses, the way he’d bend over to pick up the tissues Jean had missed when he had tried to throw them into the trash can across the room (instead of into the one beside his bed), and the way he’d laugh each time Jean called him a saint.

 

The truth was that Jean had quickly and easily developed a massive crush on his nurse and he wasn’t quite sure how to feel about it. He liked the way he looked in scrubs and how Marco would always be smiling- unless he was smirking, especially at Jean’s dumb jokes and failed attempts at looking hot, too- at him, like he enjoyed his presence. Though Jean knew he was barely ever fun to be around, he knew that at least while sick and in the range of a kind, cute boy, he was usually a little more toned down.

 

“Why?”

 

“Mm,” he did that little hum he did sometimes and sat at the edge of the bed, no where near Jean or his feet. “I think they’ll be releasing you tomorrow.”

 

“Then wouldn’t it be tomorrow that’s our last day together?” Fucking cheesy ass fool. He pushed himself up to sit straighter, albeit with a little more effort than that of how much it was supposed to take. While he was getting better, he was still a little weakened. He only coughed occasionally.

 

“No,” confirmed Marco, looking down at the white lid of the beverage in his hands, “Christa wants to say goodbye. A couple of her people checked out so she’s not as busy.”

 

“Oh.” He said again. Damn.

 

Changing subjects, Marco stood and slowly walked over to Jean’s side and handed him the cup, “I got this for you. Keep the cardboard ring and look at it later, though. Don’t throw it away.”

 

“Cardboard ring?” Jean asked with raised eyebrows, accepting the cup, fingers twitching excitedly at the thought of caffeine. It was too early to even be up.

 

Nodding, Marco reached down to gently push at the slip of removable cardboard that around the thickest part of the cup. “This thing.”

 

“Okay..?”

 

He smiled, continuing to push his statement from before, “Keep it. Look at it later, okay?”

 

“Alright.”

 

Marco stayed longer that time, chatting casually with Jean about likes and hobbies, eventually checking his vitals once more before he left, waving and saying his goodbyes. Jean noticed that, that time, his smile, while perhaps filled with a little melancholy, was kind of _hopeful_ , too.

 

Later, when he was checked out, and he got to thank Christa for the pillows, he remembered the cardboard he had kept, having thrown away the cup after he finished his drink. To his shock, it held a number and the name _Marco_ on it, written in neat handwriting. (Well, he _wasn’t_ really a _doctor_ , after all.)

 

After a second of smiling down at the writing, he noticed, to the right, in smooshed lettering, said, _Fight me?_

 

Without taking up another second, Jean scrambled for his phone, not even saving the contact before he sent his own reply.

 

_Bring it, kitten scrubs._

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, MUCH THANKS TO MY BETA, TheFullMidgetAlchemist, I LOVE YOU MY SENPAI
> 
> Now onto Vanitas-Vanilla's prompt: "'I'M ON THE VERGE OF TEARS BECAUSE OF A RUDE CUSTOMER AND YOU STEP IN AND STAND UP FOR ME"  
> (thank you so much)
> 
> Give me ideas or comments if you want, I will write them (and also scream into a pillow or my cat bc someone is actually talking to me).  
> //throws confetti and cardboard rings


End file.
